It’s been a week since I’ve been back from Chicago where I experienced a range of emotions. I got to be intensely frustrated, for instance, by having to look for a table as though we were trying to birth Jesus in a manger, and then having to wait an hour for no . . .
Read MoreI went for my first appointment today. I saw Dr. Weiss, who explained things in terms of crime-scenes and neighborhoods and light-houses emitting stay-away signals. My favorite was her description of my “unforgiving, grudge-holding nerves,” determined to exact revenge. The way I deal with them is up to me, she told me, . . .
Read MoreFirst of all, I no longer love flying. I hate it. The wings looked like they had been painted in the air by a mathematically inclined seven year old child. They did not look substantial. It did not help that my first seat assignment placed a pilot next to me who looked . . .
Read MoreYuck. I hate leaving home just before I have to. Once I do, I resign myself to the world outside and generally have a whale of a time. I will be in Chicago – if all goes well (this is my version of the Moslem, “Insha’Allah” – if God wishes) – from . . .
Read MoreI had wanted to write this blog post a while back. But it seems that every new day during the past several weeks has brought with it yet another layer of meaning that, in its development, mirrors the layers of skin, tissue, musculature, nerves, blood vessels and so forth that are beyond . . .
Read MoreI have been away from the blog for a few days now – more on all that, I’m sure, at some later date when I have figured out how to talk about the latest discoveries of my life! Meanwhile, I wanted to share this aerial view of Sri Lanka. I had never . . .
Read MoreReflections at the dawn of the ‘Post-LTTE Moment’ by Malinda Seneviratne This is a momentous occasion for Sri Lanka and Sri Lankans, regardless of ideological persuasion and preferred Utopia. Whether or not, as some have (in my opinion injudiciously) predicted, the LTTE will revert to its guerrilla avatar, it is clear that . . .
Read MoreIn August of 2005, I met someone who would turn out to be my kindred soul, my brother from another life, and a friend unlike any other. It was my first year at the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, that place of much beauty, equal pain and a creative energy that all but . . .
Read MoreIn my purse, I carry a note which describes the clinical condition of a woman I knew. Tracy was not a good friend of mine in any real sense of the word; I did not share my life with her, not ask her for any help. For one, we moved in different . . .
Read MoreWell, I don’t know if I have swine flu. Maybe the question is, how would anybody ever escape any viral virulence when all I see are germs – on the train, in the metro, public rest rooms (which I prefer to call public distress room!), and the head-rests of seats anywhere. The . . .
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